


Luune

by Anglesea



Category: Original Work
Genre: Magic, Occult, Other, Satan - Freeform, Satanism, Witch - Freeform, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:07:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22781473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anglesea/pseuds/Anglesea
Summary: Ellis Dawne is a practicing witch in a modern world. She struggles to reconcile her darker aspects with everyday life and morality. Notionally set in 1997, this work deals with the paranormal, preternatural and occult.





	Luune

**Author's Note:**

> [DISCLAIMER]: This is a work of fiction. It does not claim, nor does it intend to represent actual witches or wiccans. The witches in this story are primarily based on the medieval conception of witches as devil-worshippers. This work does not claim, nor does it intend to represent actual satanists, LeVeyan or otherwise.
> 
> Find this on fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13497092/1/Luune

“What’s this?!” Ellis asked angrily.  
Great Aunt Brunhilde considered her begrudgingly from behind her round sunglasses. Her leather-gloved fingers gripped the steering wheel of the car tightly. A traditionalist, Great Aunt Brunilde enjoyed dressing in orthodox witch-wear; a long black cape and pointed hat. Brunhilde was an early witch immigrant — witchcraft was really just starting to take off in America. Any prospective settlers from the 17th century onwards had been scared off by horror stories from Salem. Great Aunt Brunhilde herself hailed from Germany, and a German lilt inhabited her voice as she spoke:  
“It’s a new High School.”  
“What?!” Ellis screeched.  
“I want you to join the rest of your Covenmates. They all study here. I’ve enrolled you already.”  
“You didn’t tell me!”  
“No, I didn’t.” Great Aunt Brunhilde said coldly. Ellis sighed. Her Great Aunt was not the sort of person you could easily argue with. She was formidable.  
Ellis glared at the large sign outside the window that read _PENDLE VALE HIGH._  
“Go on. Out you get.” said Brunhilde.  
“Great Aunt, you can’t just—”  
“I’ll do what I like, Ellis. It’s for the best. It’s not as though you were enjoying your time at your last school.”  
“But my friends—”  
“You’ll have your friends from the Coven. Now that’s the last I want to hear of it. Go.” Brunhilde barked.  
Ellis shot stealthy dagger eyes at her Great Aunt before opening the car door and getting out. The enormous black hearse drove away and around the corner, Great Aunt Brunhilde at its helm.

A dozen or so people stood beneath a banner that read _NEW STUDENTS_. Ellis approached and was greeted by a balding man behind a desk.  
“Hello!” he chirped, “I’m Mr. Kadner. What’s your name?”  
“Ellis Dawne.” she replied.  
“Nice to meet you, Ellis.” He looked down at a clipboard. “Ah, here you are.”  
Mr Kadner ticked his list and handed Ellis a piece of paper.  
“That’s your time table. Oh, and… Annie! Would you please be Ms Downe’s guide for the week?”  
A short girl with black hair hurried over.  
“Hello! I’m Annie. Annie Kwan.” she piped.  
“Ellis Dawne.”  
Annie Kwan wore a knee-length skirt and a woolen sweater. Ellis cringed when she saw the crucifix hanging around her neck.  
“Nice to meet you. This way.” Annie marched off towards the school building.  
“So, are you new to Pendle Vale?” she asked.  
“No, I used to go to Grenfoot High.”  
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Annie looked a little disappointed. “Have you always lived in Pendle Vale then?”  
“Yeah, I have. My parents did too, but my Great Aunt is from Germany. What about you?”  
“Oh yes,” said Annie. “I’ve lived here as long as I can remember, but both my parents are from Thailand.”  
The conversation lulled as they entered the building and Annie led Ellis down the corridor. Ellis looked around as they walked, eyes wide. She glanced back at Annie and her eyes lingered on the crucifix. Annie must have interpreted her grimace as a smile because she beamed at Ellis.  
“Do you belong to a Church?” she asked.  
Ellis Hesitated. “Yes, Actually—”  
“Which one?” Annie asked.  
“The Aradian Ecclesia of Tuscany.”  
Annie scrunched up her face. “Can’t say I’ve heard of that one. Anyway I’m just plain old Catholic. That’s me! Plain old Catholic Annie.” She laughed awkwardly.  
Again, there was brief silence.  
“What’s your locker number?” Annie asked.  
“Sorry?”  
“Your locker number. It should be on your timetable.”  
“Right. 667.”  
“Well we’d best be going. I have Science first period. What about you?”

⛤⁂⛤

It turned out that Annie and Ellis shared a science class, as well as an English, Math, History and a Gym class. When Lunchtime came, they walked into the cafeteria side by side. The lunch-lady was piling Ellis’ plate with some unidentified vegetable when Annie whispered frantically,  
“Don’t look now but there’s three people at the table behind us staring at you.”  
Ellis whipped around. Two girls and one boy were gazing at her.  
“I said _don’t_ look now!” Annie hissed.  
“No, It’s alright. I know them,” Ellis said.  
“You know _them?_ How?” Annie asked.  
“Church,” said Ellis. “You go ahead, I should talk to them.”  
She walked over to the table.  
“Hello,” she said.  
The three people at the table were an unusual lot. The first of them, May Sherbourne, had long, silver, impossibly straight hair, and dressed entirely in white. The second, Hermes Lábas was a boy who had unruly dirty blonde hair and wore mascara every day of his life. The third, the leader of the pack, was Orphne Clove, a girl with the strangest name Ellis had ever heard uttered. Orphne had wavy midnight locks, which she complemented with wavy midnight clothes and dark lipstick. She was the very picture of a witch.  
“Hello, Ellis.” Orphne mustered a smile.  
“Hello!” said May.  
“Hi,” said Hermes.  
“Ellis, you haven’t spoken to any of us today,” said Orphne sweetly.  
“I was in your math class,” May grumbled, “or perhaps you didn’t notice.”  
“I’m sorry, I’ve been preoccupied,” Ellis said.  
“Preoccupied?” Hermes raised an eyebrow. “You’ve spent the entire day with Annie Kwan. You can’t honestly want to be her friend?”  
“Annie’s nice. And besides, I’m allowed to have friends outside of the Coven,” Ellis said.  
Orphne scoffed in disgust.  
“Have you _seen_ Annie Kwan?!” she said angrily. “She’s a Christian, for fuck’s sake! Have you forgotten what we are?!”  
“Just because I’m a witch, doesn’t mean I can’t exhibit religious tolerance.” Ellis snapped.  
“ _Religious Tolerance!?_ ” Orphne exclaimed, “Do you hear yourself?! When, I ask, when have they ever been tolerant of us? We have hundreds of years of persecution and—and _witch-hunts_ to show for their tolerance of us!”  
Ellis and Orphne glared at each other.  
“Are you going to sit with us, Ellis?” May asked.  
“You know, today I think I’ll sit with someone else.”

Annie was sitting at a table with two boys when Ellis approached.  
“Ellis! I was just telling the guys how we’re in practically every class together. Isn’t that right?” she said.  
“Yep,” said Ellis.  
“So,” said one of the boys, “you’re all chummy with the Addams Family over there.”  
Ellis was a little taken aback.  
“The Addams Family,” he repeated, “y’know, Orphne, May and Herman.”  
“Oh, Right.” Ellis smiled. “Yeah, I know them from... church.”  
“Really?” said the other boy. “They don’t seem like the churchgoing type.”  
“You wouldn’t think, would you?” Annie said. “They’re very… unconventional.”  
“Tell me about it,” said the first boy, “What kind of parents name their child Orphne?”  
“They’re strange, I can tell you firsthand.” Ellis said, sitting down.  
“I’m Blue,” said the first boy, “but my parents didn’t choose that name, don’t worry. My good friends have lovingly declared it my nickname. So, Ellis, nice to meet you. I’m Blue Miller.”  
Blue had a shock of brilliant red hair and a wide smile. Ellis shook his hand.  
“This here is Raf.” Blue indicated the other boy, who had dark hair and tan skin.  
“Rafael Camarillo. Nice to meet you.” He shook her hand.  
“So Ellis,” he started.  
A third boy came up to the table and Ellis’ heart fluttered. He had olive skin and shaggy brown hair with blonde tips. He had striking grey eyes and dark eyelashes, and perfect lips.  
“Whoa,” he smiled, “You’ve stolen my seat.”  
“Oh, um, sorry.” Ellis stood up quickly.  
“No, it’s fine, I’m joking, sit down, really.”  
He pulled a chair from another table and sat at the corner.  
He squinted at her, “Are you new?”  
“Yeah, I moved here from Grenfoot.” she said.  
“Right. I’m Orlando Alighieri. Basketball, Centre position.”  
“Ellis Downe.”  
“Nice to meet you. Now, what did I interrupt?”  
“I was just about to ask Ellis if she’s ever been to Gannon’s” said Raf.  
Ellis nearly choked on her sandwich. “Gannon’s? That dingy old place down the road?”  
“Watch who you’re calling dingy,” Raf said defensively, “Gannon’s has the best milkshakes in the whole town. We all go there every Thursday. You should really come along some time.”  
“Sure, I guess,” said Ellis, “If you say it’s good. I’ll just ask my—”

“Great Aunt Brunhilde. Pleased to meet you.” Great Aunt Brunhilde was a commanding and intimidating woman. She did not merely walk, she swooped about with her cape flying behind her. She was a giantess — at seven feet tall, she towered over their booth at Gannon’s. Everyone was speechless. Ellis was mortified.  
“I thought it would be good to meet some of the… _friends_ that have been drawing Ellis away from her Covenmates,” said Great Aunt Brunhilde.  
“Cove-what?” said Raf.  
“Convent?” said Annie.  
“Well, I can’t have my grandniece hanging about with any _unsavory types_ ,” said Brunhilde.  
Ellis’ eyes darted to Annie’s crucifix, (thankfully) hidden beneath her sweater.  
“Well,” said Ellis, “You’ve seen them now, and I think we can agree that they’re firmly outside the realm of unsavory, so perhaps, Great Aunt Brunhilde, you could get going.”  
Brunhilde’s expression was unreadable behind those dark, round sunglasses.  
“I see no reason to,” she said. “Perhaps I should stay, and drink sweetened milk with your delightful friends.”  
Ellis stood up. “Please,” she hissed, “you’re embarrassing me.”  
“You are embarrassed of what you are. Ellis, you cannot hide your true nature. You cannot separate your life as a schoolgirl from your life as a witch,” said Great Aunt Brunhilde in a low voice.  
Ellis glared up at her Great Aunt. It was difficult to defy a witch like Brunhilde.  
“Really. Let me have this. Just this. Friends — at least ‘till the end of high school. Please.”  
Her Great Aunt straightened up to her full height, enhanced by her wide-brimmed pointed hat. Then, Great Aunt Brunhilde did something unexpected. Her permanent scowl broke into a wicked smile.  
“Well, I must say, I’m impressed. You little sunbeams are perfectly charming. And you,” she laid a gloved hand on Annie’s shoulder, “You’re just lovely, dear, aren’t you?”  
Great Aunt Brunhilde swooped away and disappeared out the door.  
A balding man brought them their milkshakes and Orlando piped up. “What was that all about?”  
Ellis groaned. “The pinnacle of all embarrassment. My god, she’s the worst. Sorry — my Great Aunt — she just decides to do whatever she likes, I should have warned you.”  
“No, it’s alright,” said Annie, “How were you to know she’d show up? I’d be horrified if my family showed up unannounced.”  
“So does Darth Aunty live with you or something?” Blue asked.  
“I live with _her_ ,” Ellis lamented. “My parents… had an accident. They’re not around any more.”  
Annie clasped her hand and looked sympathetic.  
“I’m sorry,” said Blue.  
“No, really, it’s alright. I never knew them.” Ellis attempted a laugh, but she trailed off into awkward silence.  
“My Dad left when I was eight,” Raf offered. “That’s… not really the same.”  
A waitress arrived with their milkshakes and Ellis desperately searched to change the subject.  
“So these are pretty good, huh?” she said.  
“Best in the world,” said Raf.  
“To die for,” said Blue. 

⛤⁂⛤

Hermes Lábas glared at locker 667.  
“I think we ought to cast a malediction,” he said to May Sherbourne.  
“What? No,” said May, “come on, that’s a little harsh. This is Ellis, our friend Ellis. She’ll come around soon enough.”  
“Can’t we at least make her locker stick?”  
May opened her mouth to say no, then stopped, reconsidered and smiled cheekily.  
“Oh alright. Come on.”  
They each put a hand on the locker door and muttered a first-class enchantment.  
The two of them gleefully pranced away as Ellis came into sight.  
“...so Ms Besant seems intent on turning me into her star student. She keeps mentioning extra credit and extension work, it’s like she’s never heard of subtlety. And it’s not like—give me a hand here will you?—it’s not like she’s going to—” Ellis stopped. She tugged at the locker door hard.  
“It’s stuck,” said Annie.  
“Thanks. I hadn’t noticed.”  
Ellis put her books on the ground and tugged at the door with both hands. Annie tugged as well. They tugged and tugged and tugged until Ellis, red-faced and quite frustrated, screamed,  
“OPEN, DAMN IT!” and the door swung open with such force that it slammed against the next locker and made a very loud clang. The noise of the hallway halted. Two-dozen heads turned and four-dozen eyes stared. Ellis turned an even deeper shade of red, quietly picked up her books, put them in the locker, took out her things for the next period and disappeared around a corner. Hermes chuckled delightedly. May smiled in triumph. Their scheme had been gloriously fulfilled. 

⛤⁂⛤

Ellis had reached the end of her first week and begun her second when she was first confronted by the difficulties of everyday socialisation.  
“We should totally have a sleepover,” said Annie.  
“Mm? Sure,” said Ellis, not really listening. They were sitting by themselves at Gannon’s doing homework while rain lashed against the windows.  
“Yeah, we can get Mr Kadner’s assignment finished. Shall we say friday?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Your house?”  
“What?” Ellis blinked. Perhaps she should have been paying better attention. Annie was already packing up her books.  
“Okay, so, I’ll come to yours at five, what’s your address?”  
“Wha— 22 Hurth Street, but—”  
“Great!”  
Annie would hardly let a word in sideways. Ellis tried to protest, to proclaim that her house was unfit for sleepovers, and that her Great Aunt would never agree to it, but before she could, she was confronted by Orphne and company.  
“Leave.” commanded Orphne, and Annie left.  
“We need to talk, Ellis,” said Hermes threateningly.  
The three of them slid into the booth, and May assumed Annie’s abandoned milkshake.  
“You know what’s coming up?” she said innocently.  
“No, what?” Ellis was frustrated.  
“Really, Ellis! What kind of a witch are you?!” Orphne said exasperatedly.  
“Um…”  
“It’s full moon next monday,” said Hermes.  
“Which means that it’s Luune Mond,” said Orphne.  
Ellis sighed. Of course. Luune Mond, how could she forget? Every three months on the full moon, a midnight sabbath would be held to honour the Luune.  
“Of course,” Ellis muttered, “Moonfest ‘97, how could I forget?”  
“We’re going to spend the weekend preparing,” said Orphne, “You’re going to come.”  
“Naturally.”  
“We start Friday night.”  
“Ah, well you see, I’ve just organised something for Friday night, and had you not just rudely interrupted, I might’ve been able to cancel it, but I’m afraid it’s now set in stone,” said Ellis.  
“But Ellis—” May began.  
“Whatever,” said Orphne, “You’ll be there on the weekend,” and she stalked away.  
⛤⁂⛤

The Dawne household resembled a gothic victorian manor except that instead of being tall and thin like all good gothic victorian houses should be, it was squat and thick, and looked as though somebody had squashed it. To Ellis’ horror, Great Aunt Brunhilde entirely embraced the concept of a sleepover, and seemed to relish in Ellis’ prospective embarrassment. Ellis desperately tried to prepare the house for the impending sleepover of doom in a frantic, yet futile effort to cover up the house’s inherent witchiness. Occult decorations and drawings covered the walls and candles and statuettes lined the shelves. Her greatest point of conflict was the household shrine to Beelzebub. A pretty thing with candles and gold paint, it occupied the middle of the foyer’s back wall, winged on either side by a double-staircase. It contained a large inverted pentagram and an icon portrait. Beelzebub was, of course, a very important demon: one of seven princes of Hell, he was second to the Lord Satan and he was called the Lord of the Flies. It was important for any self-respecting witch to worship him and so Great Aunt Brunhilde was greatly opposed to covering up the shrine as Ellis proposed.  
“Preposterous!” cried Great Aunt Brunhilde, stroking her familiar Greedigut, a silky black fox.  
“Please, Great Aunt Brunhilde, I’m sure Prince Beelzebub won’t mind having _one_ of his shrines covered up for one night!”  
“Ellis, I won’t have it. It makes no sense! Why on earth should we cover our shrines for visitors?”  
“Well, Great Aunt, it’s just that lots of people find pentagrams a little off-putting.”  
“Ha! Ridiculous! We are proud witches Ellis! We should not be ashamed of our culture!”  
Greedigut grumbled.  
“Please, Great Aunt Brunhilde. Just one night!”  
Great Aunt Brunhilde regarded Ellis for several quiet minutes. The little black fox climbed up onto her shoulder and whispered into her ear.  
“Very well,” she said at last, “but you must make me a promise. You will tell your friends that you are a witch. I do not care how soon, but you must do it eventually. Promise me this.”  
“Yes, sure. Now about the shrine to Aradia—”  
Being a part of the Aradian Ecclesia, the household shrine of the witch goddess Aradia was larger than the shrine of Beelzebub. It occupied a fair proportion of the sitting room, and was thankfully inoffensive in regard to pentagrams.  
“No.” said Great Aunt Brunhilde flatly.

At 4:45 Ellis waited at the door, hoping to greet Annie before Great Aunt Brunhilde could get to her. When she saw movement through the little frosted-glass panes in the door she opened it before Annie could knock.  
“Hi!” she said.  
“Uh, hi,” said Annie.  
“How are you?”  
“Good.”  
Ellis noticed the silver cross hanging around Annie’s neck and grimaced.  
“You’d better take that off,” she said quickly, “My Great Aunt, she… she doesn’t like jewelry. No, she hates it. Better take it off.”  
Annie frowned at Ellis, who was wearing her own crescent-moon necklace, but obliged nonetheless.  
After ensuring that the necklace was safely out of sight, Ellis welcomed Annie inside.  
“What’s that?” Annie pointed to the shrine of Beelzebub, which had been covered by a sheet.  
“Oh, just your ordinary mysterious sheet-covered wall decor,” said Ellis cheerfully.  
Annie stared.  
“It’s uh, an old aircon,” Ellis said lowly, “But it’s… rusty, so we covered it up. Can’t have rusty aircon clashing with the wallpaper.”  
At that moment Great Aunt Brunhilde descended the stairs and swooped towards the door, a large snake around her neck. The snake was a python called Mantle, and it was Great Aunt Brunhilde’s second familiar. Like an enormous scarf, Mantle wrapped himself around her neck, his eyes cold and haughty. Annie seemed a little taken aback by the snake, but managed a weak smile and greeted Great Aunt Brunhilde politely. Great Aunt Brunhilde greeted her equally politely, but the snake regarded her icily.  
“So, Mr Kadner’s assignment—where should we work?” asked Annie.  
“Might I suggest the sitting room?” Great Aunt Brunhilde said, pointing in its direction.  
“Sure,” Annie said, moving towards the door.  
“No! Let’s… _not_ go to the sitting room, it’s all, er, stuffy. I think my bedroom would be better, actually. The ideal workplace.”  
Bewildered, Annie followed Ellis up the stairs. Great Aunt Brunhilde watched them go and stroked her familiar gently.

It was dark, and May was late. Orphne and Hermes were sitting in the wide lounge room of Orphne’s house, sipping apple-juice, waiting. Orphne’s mother, Caligo, and father, Andrealphus-James, were both witches, so had allowed her to use the living room for meetings. The door burst open and May Sherbourne fluttered inside carrying a wrapped package.  
“Sorry! So sorry!” she said, and looked at the clock on the wall, “My dear, I’m late. Is that apple-juice?”  
“May! You didn’t even ring the doorbell!” said Orphne.  
“No, I didn’t,” May agreed, taking up a glass of apple-juice and downing it. She raised an eyebrow.  
“Did you want me to?”  
“What held you up?” Hermes asked.  
“Venetian Foxes,” she said, as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world.  
“I see.”  
“Right, let’s start. Our first point of discussion: Ellis Dawne; we need to do something about her,” said Orphne.  
“Right. Sure. May and I did that jinx—” Hermes began.  
May, who was now drinking Orphne’s apple-juice, snorted. “I forgot about that.”  
“Well I think we need to do something bigger. Ellis has abandoned us as far as I’m concerned. The company she keeps—ugh! I’m thinking a hex, maybe even a curse.”  
That brought about a shocked silence.  
“A curse!” said Hermes. “Is it _that_ bad?”  
May picked up his juice and started drinking.  
“No,” she said, “You’re thinking all wrong. Let’s be real, we haven’t been the best friends to Ellis either. Our reception was lukewarm. I was in her math class, and I didn’t even say hello. So you know what? I’ve taken some initiative. I’ve bought her a present to make up.”  
“A _present?!_ ” Orphne cried incredulously, “May, you are the least-Satanic Satanist I know.”

Dinner was before them: an enormous roast swan. It sent tendrils of steam swirling up to the ceiling. Annie gawked. Brunhilde frowned. Ellis was oblivious to the fact that most people do not eat roast swans.  
“Can we start?” Ellis asked, reaching out to take up the carving knife.  
“Wait,” said Annie, “Should we not say grace?”  
Ellis froze. _Oh no_. Great Aunt Brunhilde looked a little surprised.  
“Well yes,” she said, “Of course. I shall lead.”  
Annie closed her eyes and bowed her head. Ellis glared at her Aunt.  
“Our Lord, who art called pernicious and baneful. We thank you for all that you give to us; our powers, our food, our drink. May you keep our souls forever. Hail Sa—”  
“Amen.” Ellis interrupted quickly.  
“Amen.” Annie agreed.  
“Annie, you seem like a devout girl,” Great Aunt Brunhilde said, “Ellis hardly ever remembers to say her prayers. It’s a wonder our Lord grants her magic—”  
“Milk!” cried Ellis. “It’s a wonder our Lord grants me milk!”  
Great Aunt Brunhilde stared in a disgruntled sort of way.  
“Oh,” said Annie, searching for something to say. “I’m lactose intolerant. I guess the Lord doesn’t want me drinking milk.”  
“Yes, he’s very wrathful in that way,” said Great Aunt Brunhilde.  
“I wouldn’t say _that_. Jesu—” Annie began.  
“I think we’ve almost finished our assignment,” Ellis interjected, “It shouldn’t take us too long to finish.”  
“No, I don’t think so,” said Annie.  
There was an awkward pause where everybody stared at their food. All of a sudden, the very loud sound of organ pipes rang throughout the house, playing the tune of Toccata and Fugue.  
“ _Mein Teufel!_ The Doorbell! Go and get it, won’t you Ellis?” cried Brunhilde.  
Ellis and Annie left the table and went to the door. There was no one there. Ellis gazed around suspiciously and took a step outside. She kicked something accidentally down the stairs, and upon closer inspection, found it to be a package, with some brown string tied around it in a bow and a little card. It read:

_Dear Ellis,  
I know we haven’t been the greatest friends to you these past weeks. I want to say, on behalf of all of us in the Coven, that we’re very sorry for giving you such a poor reception at school (especially for making your locker stick), and to make up for it, we’ve decided to give you this present. I hope you enjoy it!  
Lots of Love,  
From May, Hermes and Orphne._

“What does it say?” Annie asked.  
“Says it’s a present.”  
They went inside, and Ellis tore the paper open. Out of the package fell a shrivelled, bony shape. It was a mummified cat.  
Annie shrieked.  
“Oh my god!” she cried. “What do we do? What do we do?!”  
Ellis picked it up by the tail; it was stiff and solid.  
“What sort of sick joke is this?” Annie said, “Who would do this?! Who sent it to you?”  
“Uh, the card doesn’t say,” Ellis lied, “Look, it’s alright, I’ll put it in the bin. It’s fine.”  
Ellis was actually planning to put the cat in the basement storeroom; a mummified cat was very useful for spells, and she secretly appreciated May’s gesture. Annie sat down on the stairs and ran her hands through her hair.  
“No, no, we can’t do that,” she said, “We should bury it.”  
Ellis reluctantly agreed, and found a cardboard box to serve as the ill-fated cat’s coffin. They went out into the garden and excavated the lavender and mint, digging just deep enough to cover the cat-box in a thin layer of soil.  
“There we go,” said Ellis, wiping her hands, “It’s like our very own shoddinger’s cat.”  
“It’s Schrödinger,” Annie corrected dejectedly, “but I don’t think that really applies. Our cat is definitely dead.”

From behind a bush, Hermes and Orphne watched and waited until all the lights in the house were turned off.  
“Are you sure about this?” Hermes whispered.  
“I’m sure.” she whispered back.  
“It’s a fourth-class spell, Orphne. That’s more than I can do.”  
“If it’s the two of us it shouldn’t be too hard.”  
“If you say so.”  
Orphne took from her back pocket a crumpled piece of paper. The light of the waxing moon bathed the garden in an eerie glow, the leaves of a dozen herbs appearing like strange apparitions of elfhame. They began to chant.

⛤⁂⛤

Annie was thoroughly disturbed by the whole cat-mummy episode, and was having difficulty falling asleep. Ellis, who seemed entirely indifferent, was fast asleep. For whatever reason, Ellis’ bedroom had no curtains, and from Annie’s vantage-point, the room seemed aglow with blue, and the long shadows on the wall looked uncannily similar to the silhouettes of evil knife-murderers. It was in this sleepless, on-edge state that Annie first heard the noise: a horrible scratching. Her eyes wide, she stiffened and tried not to breathe too much. The scratching noise came again.  
“Ellis!” she whispered frantically. Ellis, being a deep sleeper, did not respond.  
“Ellis!” she tried again. The scratching again. Her mind raced; what could it be? She told herself it must be an opossum, or a raccoon, or perhaps even a stray cat.

A _cat._

Annie was terrified. Her mind filled with all sorts of old horror-movies that appeared late at night on the TV. Annie had accidentally read a gory horror novel about egyptian mummies when she was ten, and the imagery had been permanently imprinted on her mind.  
“ _Ellis!_ ” she cried.  
Ellis replied with a moan.  
“Ellis, wake up!”  
“What is it?”  
The scratching noise, again.  
“Ellis, do you hear that?”  
“I hear that.” Ellis was sitting up now.  
The scratching increased.  
_Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. SLAM._  
“Ellis, was that the door?”  
Ellis didn’t answer. She went to her cupboard and took out a baseball bat. Very quietly, she crept to the door and motioned for Annie to follow.  
“What—” Annie whispered.  
Ellis turned around and held a finger to her lips.  
_Be quiet._  
Annie nodded, and they moved silently out of the room. Barefoot and in her pyjamas, Annie felt completely unprepared to face a likely house intruder, but Ellis seemed determined and so she bit her lip and went along.  
They reached the top of the stairs and began to tiptoe down them, one by one. At the bottom of the staircase, the carpet stopped, and the floor beneath their feet was cold. The front door was wide open, and a cool breeze came through it. Scratches covered its surface, the lock was broken, and it swung about in the breeze. They stood in the middle of the foyer, between each arm of the double staircase. Annie looked back and saw that the sheets covering the Shrine to Beelzebub had blown off with the wind. In the shadows she could just make out the proud face of the Lord of the Flies, with dark eyes that seemed to follow her about. She shuddered and turned around. Ellis was moving towards the dining room, and Annie followed.There was no light in the dining room; it was windowless. Annie’s heart raced. What could be lurking in here?  
All of a sudden, Ellis flicked a light switch and a little electric bulb turned on above them. Annie, spooked, jumped and whirled around.  
“You scared—”  
Again, Ellis motioned for silence. There was nothing in this room. They went into the kitchen, and found nothing there. Slowly and silently, they inched through the house, room by room, looking.  
Then Annie heard another noise. A horrible, demented screetch, as though from nails on chalkboard. It came from the living room. They made their way to it, Ellis wielding her baseball bat like a sword, her knuckles white from gripping so hard. They looked into the darkened room. Annie caught a glimpse of gold; an ivory-white statue; the Shrine to Aradia. In the middle of the room, tearing into the couch, was the cat. Somehow simultaneously dead and moving, though not quite alive. The cat was animated, certainly, but its movements were stiff. It was uncanny: almost real but not quite. The emptiness of the cat pervaded the room, its perverse unnatural nature creating dread in the very bottom of Annie’s stomach. Everything about the cat seemed _wrong_. Annie felt a sudden desire to get away from it — an aversion to the cat’s twisted form. It bent around and glared at them with frosted, dead eyes. Its dry skin cracked as it unloosed its jaw and let out a horrific gut-wrenching scream. Green tendrils of fog leaked from its mouth. It lurched towards them faster than a thing of its composition should have been able to. It moved spasmodically, relying on muscles that had long ago been dried and desiccated. It yowled and Annie, greatly frightened, let out a small scream. The cat leaped up and, with sharp claws raked across her arm. Together, Ellis and Annie ran out into the foyer and darted up the stairs, the cat at their heels. At the landing, Ellis turned and whacked the cat with her baseball bat straight on. It fell to the bottom of the stairs, a crumpled mess of shrivelled skin. Immediately it began to bend itself back into shape, and sprang back up the stairs with its skull caved in.  
“God!” cried Annie in desperation. They ran down the corridor to Ellis’s room, and slammed the door shut. It started pounding, scratching at the door, its claws rending the wood into splinters.  
Annie was hysterical; crying and screaming. Ellis was filled with panic. What to do? What to do? The door burst open and the monstrous feline charged into the room. Ellis raised her baseball bat and smashed it against the creature. She beat it again and again, breaking each of its bones with a sickening crunch. With its ribcage concave and its hind leg detached, the cat flew into a frenzy. It roared and screeched and pounced up onto Ellis’s face, claws digging into her cheeks and teeth attacking her nose. Ellis yelled and kicked and pulled as it tore into her flesh, and Annie watched in horror, unable to move for fright.  
Then, like a knight of Arthur, Great Aunt Brunhilde swept into the room in her nightgown and pulled the cat off Ellis. She twisted its neck and when that did not work, held it at arm’s length, enclosed in one of her massive fists.  
“What on earth is going on here?!” she asked furiously. Ellis tried to say something, but opened her mouth and found it was full of blood.  
“Come on,” said Great Aunt Brunhilde irritably, and led Ellis out of the room. Annie sat where she was and trembled, wiping the tears from her face and staring at the detached hind leg of the cat, afraid that it might move. When Ellis came back, her face was clean, her cuts were healed and the cat was nowhere in sight. 

⛤⁂⛤

The next morning Annie was in rather a hurry to leave, and so Ellis slipped a little bit of Lethe-mint, a forgetfulness herb, into her tea at breakfast and insisted she drink it. The Lethe-mint would fudge her memories a little — fuzzy them up and make them less frightening. Hopefully it would curry her favour. Annie left in a significantly better mood. As soon as she was out the door, Great Aunt Brunhilde turned on Ellis.  
“You know you could have easily used magic last night,” she said.  
“I—I know,” Ellis said, “but Annie was there, and I didn’t want to—”  
“The longer you try to postpone telling her the worse it will be.”  
“But—”  
“Ellis you cannot live two lives. You are either a witch, or you are not.”

When Great Aunt Brunhilde went outside to assess the damage to her garden, she found two witches asleep under her hedge.  
“Look what I found in the garden.” Great Aunt Brunhilde said, dragging Orphne and Hermes inside, “They were fast asleep: passed out, it seems, from working magic above their skill level.”  
Ellis’ eyes bulged.  
“It was you!” she cried, slamming her fist on the dining room table, “You absolute bastards! Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused me!? I’m going to—I’m going to find the worst malediction I can, and I’m going to cast it on you two filthy maggots!  
Just as Ellis was thinking that it might be a good idea to actually _turn_ them into maggots, Great Aunt Brunhilde went to the telephone and, taking out a birch wand, tapped it vigorously.  
“Hello? Andrealphus—Yes, I have seen her—She’s here—That’s right—Well yes—Goodbye.” she put down the phone and picked it up again.  
“Hello?—I have him here with me now—Yes, come and collect him instantly—Yes—Yes—Thank-you—See you soon.”

In short notice both of Orphne’s parents appeared along with Hermes’ Mother. They all complained and argued and scalded, but in the end it was decided that Luune Mond was coming soon, and preparations had to be made, so May and her parents were called over as well, and everyone set to work. Being that there was only a small number of Witches spread across North America, they would have to fly four hours on broomstick to get to their meeting point. The Witches’ Diocese of Eurous Emeric stretched from Florida to Newfoundland, but there were only enough witches in it to form one congregation. Being a witch in America was difficult: nothing was ever in supply. You want Ground Unicorn Horn? You’ll have to wait a few weeks because you’ll need to ship it from Europe, and there aren’t any Unicorn-farmers in the US.  
In order for a witch to fly she does not rely on her broomstick, but rather on flying ointment; _hexensalbe_ in German, _unguentum sabbati_ in Latin. So the primary matter for the weekend was to prepare sufficient flying ointment for the flight. Great Aunt Brunhilde, being a great potions-master, set up her copper cauldron in the basement, and recited the ingredients:  
“Our recipe calls firstly for the fat of children dragged from their graves, boiled, thickened and boiled again. Secondly, we must have the juices of smallage (which means celery), wolfsbane (which means aconite), cinquefoil, belladonna and mandrake (all of which we have in the garden). Thirdly, we mix soot, bats blood, nightshade, wheat and oil, then boil once more and apply. We should make more for next year; last year’s supply is run out.”  
Then everybody went about and gathered the ingredients: Orphne and Hermes were made to go to the cemetery and find some suitable children’s fat as their punishment. Both needed five showers afterwards. It took several hours of Great Aunt Brunhilde stirring the cauldron in the fumy basement before she emerged triumphantly with a pot of hot _hexensalbe._  
On Monday, Ellis got out her riding-broom, a pretty, varnished besom with clipped twigs and a little leather cushioning. She put on her long black traditional robes, and a stiff brimless witch hat, and went downstairs to paint her lips with pig’s blood. Great Aunt Brunhilde still wore her sunglasses, and as the senior-most member of the local Coven, she wore a blood-red capelet over her robes. They ate a traditional lunch of witch- _Blutwurst_ , sausage made from the leftover bat’s blood.  
At mid-afternoon Ellis and Brunhilde marched out into the woods, where they met the others and applied flying ointment to their hands, feet, arms, legs and chest. Each of them clasped their brooms and rose slowly into the air, black robes trailing behind them like dark feathers. To fly is to be exhilarated: soaring across the vast uncharted sky like a bird, free. As she took to the air, Ellis forgot all of her troubles and laughed for pure joy. Perhaps it was the ointment, full of strange hallucinogens and toxins, but she was completely happy. And though the flight was long, and the wind was cold and though the broom beneath her quickly became uncomfortable, Ellis loved every moment of it, because to fly is freedom; freedom from the restraints of the earth. When Aradia, the daughter of Diana, had brought her gospel to the witches, she had promised them freedom: freedom and flight.

_When I shall have departed from this world,  
Whenever ye have need of anything,  
Once in a month, when the moon is full,  
Ye shall assemble in some desert place,  
Or in a forest all together join  
To adore the potent spirit of your queen,  
My mother, Great Diana. She who fain  
Would learn all sorcery yet has not won  
In deepest secrets, then my mother will  
Teach her, in truth all things as yet unknown.  
And ye shall be freed from slavery,  
And so shall ye be free in everything;  
And the sign that ye are truly free,  
Ye shall be naked in your rites, both men  
And women also: this shall last until  
The last of your oppressors shall be dead;  
And ye shall make the game of Benevento  
Extinguishing the lights, and after that  
Shall hold your supper thus._  
From Leland’s “the Gospel of Witches”

They set down at the edge of the clearing: a wide, moonlit meadow. A bright bonfire stood in its middle, and about it a chain of witches pranced naked. Ellis slipped off her black robe and discarded her hat. So did the others. Ellis was not embarrassed; she had done this a hundred times and would do it a hundred more. Together, they walked naked out of the shadows and towards the bonfire. The Luune Mond in all its glory loomed over the meadow, fat and yellow. Its radiant light bathed them and they admired its glory. Ellis stepped forward to join the dance. It was a frenzied, primal dance, and with it the witches adored their gods: Diana, the moon, Lucifer, the light-bringer, Aradia, their child, Hecate, Lilith and Circe. They danced with glee and their dance filled them. Under the glowing full moon, the Luune Mond, all was forgot. They danced and the devil was with them, as he is with them always.


End file.
